


Toeing a thin line

by Zaxagra



Series: Lines [2]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Becoming a mom is hard okay?, F/F, Newborn Charlie, Nicole is a Saint, poop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:55:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29555964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaxagra/pseuds/Zaxagra
Summary: It's been 24 days since Charlie's birth. Waverly has some time for herself while Nicole and Wynonna watch the baby. Not everything is easy (including regular bowel movements).
Relationships: Waverly Earp & Charlie Curtis Earp, Waverly Earp & Wynonna Earp, Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Series: Lines [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945336
Comments: 18
Kudos: 124





	Toeing a thin line

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, friends!  
> It's been a while since my last post (LIFE, you guys!), but here we are again. I really wanted to write this piece, inspired by a podcast where a new mom talked about some difficulties she had post-birth. I think we have all learned from reading B2L that those are the things I really wanna talk about, so here we are. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> It's been a real joy getting into writing again (had a little writers block), and it's especially been fun working with my beta again! Everyone give some love to @jorekbyrnison <3

“What do you think he's dreaming about?” Nicole whispered. 

Wynonna looked to the side, to where Ginger Top’s face was configured into an all too familiar goofy grin. Realizing she probably donned a similar expression, Wynonna quickly composed herself and shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Waverly's boobs,” she quipped.

“Mmm,” hummed Nicole, a soft hint of a chuckle evident on her lips, still with that dreamy look in her eyes. 

“Gross,” said Wynonna, quickly regretting her witty reply. She turned back to the baby in front of her and rested her chin on her folded arms.

They were hanging over Charlie's cot while Waverly took a shower, cooing quietly over the tiny, sleeping form. His chest rose steadily with every breath and his arms were stretched upwards on either side of his ears in typical baby fashion. Wynonna would never admit to it if anyone asked, but this little boy was probably her favorite person in the whole entire world. 

Not that Chucky said anything, or did anything other than eat and sleep and poop. But he was filled with an endless potential that thrilled Wynonna beyond anything she had ever experienced. Watching her nephew sleep was more exciting than trying to slip in a few shots of tequila behind Doc’s back while at work, or even steering a motorcycle down an endless highway at a hundred miles an hour. With every movement he made, with every wet little sigh, Wynonna’s heart leapt once more, once again refueling the ever-present smile on her face. 

Nicole was one hundred percent the same, except maybe even more. Her baby sister’s girlfriend had never really had a good poker face, but these days it was even shittier. She was happy  _ all the frickin’ time _ . 

Being awoken by a screaming baby at three in the morning? Bright, big smile on Nicole’s face. 

Having to buy new diapers after they all agreed Waverly’s project with the reusable cotton type wasn’t doing them any good? Nicole volunteers to go to the store with an energetic spring in her step. 

Waverly crying in the shower because apparently all of her hair had fallen out? Nicole steps into the hot water, fully clothed, and cradles her against her until the tears stop. Granted, Nicole’s eyes revealed she was just as freaked out by the clumps of soggy, tangled hair as the rest of them, but she never once flinched. 

Waverly told them later, over a cup of soothing chamomile, that the hair loss was due to some kind of hormone implosion - it just was a little more terrifying when it actually happened.

In summary, Nicole was a goddamn miracle. 

And Waverly was… Well, she was adjusting. 

Who could blame her really? One thing was being pregnant, when you’re still your own person. But once that baby comes out you’re kinda spoken for every second of every day. Wynonna and Nicole could at least go somewhere without bringing the baby, if they wanted to.

Waverly was busy, constantly. Feeding Charlie, or changing diapers, or checking on him while he slept, or worrying when he cried, or worrying when he didn’t cry, or all around being a  _ mom _ . She barely ate, and Nicole and Wynonna had to forcibly shoo her off to let  _ them _ comfort the tiny Chucklebutt. 

This time they had managed to coax Waverly into taking a shower without  _ too much _ effort, although it had to be carefully planned into Charlie’s schedule of nursing and napping. If everything went according to plan, Waverly would have an entire hour for herself before he started screaming again. 

If only he would stick to the agreement. 

“No, no, no,” Wynonna murmured when he started kicking his tiny feet and his face scrunched up in an all too familiar way. “No, come on, buddy. Please, sleep.”

Nicole’s hand was already on his stomach, rubbing soothing circles while she shushed softly. 

But Charlie wouldn’t have it. With eyes pressed closed as if in the most horrible pain, he opened his toothless mouth and started wailing. 

“Chucky, come on,” Wynonna begged, unsuccessfully. “We had a deal.” She lowered her voice, whispering dangerously, “I’ll sue you for breach of contract.” 

Nicole didn’t even scowl at her. 

“Come on, come on, come on…”

\---

Meanwhile, in the bathroom next door, Waverly was sitting buck naked on the toilet. 

It had been 24 days since Charlie’s birth. Three and something weeks. Nearly a month. 

And Waverly was sitting on the toilet. Again. 

Because after 24 days, she still had trouble pooping. 

No one had told her about this part of becoming a mom. Honestly, no one had told her about any of this. About the constipation and the hair loss and the flabby skin on her stomach. Her body was gross and tired and simply a machine, designed to feed her baby. But everytime he screamed for her boobs, she never knew if it was gonna be calm and delightful, or if it would feel like a thousand tiny needles poking through her nipple. 

She didn’t have a mom to tell her about these things, and there was no one else either. No one knew what it was like, or what to do, or how to feel. The closest thing was Gus, but even  _ she  _ didn’t really know how to properly change a diaper. Hilariously, it had been Wynonna who carried the most experience in that field, having changed Waverly’s when she was little.

Waverly closed her eyes in prayer when the sound of her wailing newborn penetrated the wall. 

_ Not now _ , she begged.  _ Just give me ten minutes _ .

She really needed to take a shower, but, more precariously, she really, really needed to poop. 

Waverly waited. 

Waited. 

Waited to hear if Charlie’s crying died down. 

It didn’t. 

She was already reaching for the toilet paper when there was a ruffle outside the door. 

“We’re fine!” yelled Wynonna. “Don’t come out. We got this!”

“You sure?” she called back. 

“Go poop!”

Waverly closed her eyes in regret. She should have never told her sister about her constipation. It was really the last scrap of dignity she had left after this whole journey.

The agonizing cries from her son disappeared down the stairs along with the thunderous sound of feet on the wooden steps, and silence once again filled the bathroom. 

She sighed, then took a big breath and pushed again, but it was no use. Her bowels were getting nowhere. It even stung a little bit. 

It was totally unfair, too, because meanwhile, Charlie was pooping a dozen times a day, always with an adorable grin on his face. 

Waverly had finally added  _ ‘prunes’  _ to the most recent grocery list, resorting to  _ something _ that might bring some relief to her bowels. But, since it was  _ Wynonna  _ who volunteered to take the trip, and since Wynonna  _ forgot _ the damn list, the prunes didn’t make it home. 

It probably didn’t help either, that Waverly’s eating habits had become super irregular. Nicole was really doing her best to keep it on track, but it still wasn’t perfect. Waverly just wasn’t hungry.

She sighed again, increasingly more frustrated with the state of her body. 

Nicole was  _ amazing _ . How could she not be. 

Although, really, how  _ could  _ she be? Her own parents weren’t exactly role models. Waverly at least had Gus and Curtis to take after, and yet, she felt utterly inferior to Nicole’s natural talent for parenting. Being a loving parent was apparently ingrained into her very soul, as if this was her call in life. The way she looked at Charlie when he slept, or at Waverly when they were nursing… It could melt icebergs, Waverly was sure. 

A large drop suddenly landed on her thigh, escaping from her eye without her permission. It came with a pang of guilt. 

Nicole was  _ perfect _ . And Waverly was, well,  _ Waverly _ . A girl who spent her 19th birthday walking around with baby upchuck on her shoulder, without even caring. She had no idea how her life had turned into this. Most days, when she was rudely awakened by the stirring of her baby, it took a moment before her brain caught on that it  _ wasn’t  _ all just a dream. 

But then Nicole would snuggle up behind her and kiss her shoulder, whispering, “I think he’s hungry”, and Waverly knew that this was, in fact, real life. 

Waverly would crawl out of the warm safety of her blankets and put Charlie to her chest, rocking him while he filled his tiny stomach. Nicole would put on the kettle and produce a large cup of tea for Waverly, served with proud googly eyes that made something stir inside Waverly chest. 

In a few weeks time, Nicole had somehow become the most contributing member of their household, while also managing to do her BA and following Nedley’s mentorship at the station. While Waverly nursed her child, Nicole cooked meals and went grocery shopping and did the laundry.

_ Laundy _ . It was non-stop. Waverly had never done this much laundry in her life. The laundry basket in the nursery was always full, and the washing machine always on. 

When Chrissy had facetimed in a few days ago, from somewhere south of São Paulo, she had said, “Sleep when the baby sleeps, that’s what they say, right?” But that was fucking  _ bullshit _ . Whenever Charlie slept, which was thankfully a lot, Waverly had a ton of other things she needed to prioritize before sleep. Getting a shower had become a rare luxury, and getting to poop, like now, was a damn miracle. 

Waverly sighed and reached for the toilet paper. No use in sitting here forever. 

\---

Waverly padded downstairs, trying to step as lightly as she could. Her hair was damp and her body scrubbed clean. She’d thrown on loose-fitted yoga pants and a baggy t-shirt with a warm and fuzzy cardigan. The shower left her feeling refreshed and relaxed, with a lightness in her heart that somewhat suppressed her other frustrations. She also longed for the feeling of her son in her arms again. 

The radio was playing on a low volume in the kitchen and it smelled like coffee. Not expecting to find her baby boy in such an environment, she first peeked her head inside the living room. Sure enough, Charlie was there. He was lying on his stomach on top of Nicole’s chest, with her hands securely around his form. Both of them were sound asleep on the couch. A tiny patch of drool had collected underneath Charlie’s squashed cheek, staining Nicole’s shirt. A similar drop of drooble shone wetly in the corner of Nicole’s open mouth. 

Waverly’s stomach did a huge summersault, and her face melted into a warm smile, filled with love. Love for her son and love for her partner. Love for the family they formed and for the life ahead of them. Everything else seemed to slip away.

But there was a hint of something else, too. Something that stung, deep down in her gut.  _ Shame _ . Unlike before, the feeling was only barely present as Waverly watched the pair on the couch. Her happiness made it almost unnoticeable.

She leaned the side of her head against the doorframe, not caring about the tears that rolled silently down her cheek. Waverly clutched her hands in front of her chest, as if trying to keep her heart from exploding.

Wynonna suddenly came up behind her, slurping on a large mug of coffee. She swallowed loudly. “You okay?”

Waverly nodded. Her ability to speak was momentary repressed by a large lump in her throat. 

“Did you poop?”

A choked laugh pressed out of her windpipe. Waverly wiped her teary, red face and shook her head. “No.”

“Bummer.”

Waverly laughed again. She turned towards her sister, gauging the partly amused, party worried face she was carrying. “I’m getting there,” she whispered.

Wynonna raised a challenging eyebrow, making Waverly roll her eyes. 

“You know what I mean.”

Casting one last look towards the sleepy figures on the couch, Waverly followed her sister into the kitchen. She sat down on a chair and waited for Wynonna to pour her a cup of coffee. She still preferred tea, as the taste of coffee had become a smidge too bitter after the pregnancy, but right now she didn’t have it in her to care. 

Wynonna watched her take the first sip. Waverly could feel her eyes upon her, studying her, trying to figure her out. The feeling had been there for a few days now, maybe longer. In those moments, her sister’s eyes carried an impression of apprehensive curiosity, but Wynonna never dared ask, nor did Waverly. 

She knew what those eyes meant, she’d seen them before. They’d been there when she took the pregnancy test, and then again when she told Champ about the result. Even later, when Nicole’s mother visited, Wynonna’s eyes had been watching, searching,  _ knowing _ , even if they didn’t quite understand. 

If Waverly asked about those eyes now, her own would start watering, and she was afraid they would never stop. 

“Wave?”

Waverly shook her head, focusing entirely on the cup in her hands and the slowly swirling steam of condensation that escaped from it. She pursed her lips and tried to blow it, but her mouth was drawn in a tense line, making it difficult. Her vision hazed over with fresh tears. 

Wynonna put her own mug on the kitchen table, giving off a ‘clinck’ upon contact. 

“Waverly, I know it’s hard.”

Waverly refused to answer. 

“I just, I wanted to tell you that I’m here. And Nicole is, too. You don’t have to do everything alone.”

Something burned in Waverly’s throat. Something that wasn’t coffee. 

“I don’t do it alone,” she whispered, her words obscured by the cup. “I’m here now, aren’t I? And he’s out there, with Nicole.”

Wynonna reached out. Her hand connected with Waverly’s knee. 

That was all it took. 

The thinly built dam inside Waverly’s chest broke upon Wynonna’s touch, eliciting tears and soaring guilt to cascade through her body. She crumbled forward, heaving and crying, her fingers clutching hard around the ceramic cup. Salt tears and snot made her face wet. 

“I can’t do this,” she gasped. Her voice came out in a terrible wheeze. Shame washed through her, billowing painfully through her limbs and crashing against her joints. 

Wynonna’s hand tightened around her knee. The other started moving up and down her back. “You can,” she said.

Waverly shook her head. “I don’t -” She pressed her eyes closed, forcing another set of tears to escape. Her lip was quivering wildly. “I don’t think I can.”

A clawed fist clamped around her frail heart at the admission. This feeling of incompetence had been simmering just underneath her skin for a while, but it wasn’t until now that she could truly perceive it in its true form. 

“I’m not good enough,” she sobbed. The grip inside her chest tightened again, making her sink further into herself. 

The cup disappeared from her grasp and was replaced by one of Wynonna’s hands. Waverly squeezed it, and it squeezed back even harder, almost painfully. Wynonna sank down on her knees in front of her. With her free hand, she brushed Waverly’s hair out of her face and behind her ear. 

“Hey,” she said. She tapped Waverly’s chin to gain her attention. 

Waverly sobbed once more, but raised her gaze to look at her sister. 

“This feeling,” Wynonna said. “This is exactly why you  _ are _ good enough. You wouldn’t feel like this if you didn’t care about him, or if you were giving up. This  _ feeling _ -” Wynonna nodded towards Waverly. “This feeling is good. It means you’re gonna do all you can to give this kid a chance. It  _ means  _ you’re  _ good  _ enough.”

She emphasized those last few words very clearly, her icy blue eyes all the while boring into Waverly’s hazel ones.

Waverly paused for a second, but then gave a little shake and averted her gaze, her eyes once again overflowing.

Wynonna scooched forward, bumping the lower part of her abdomen against Waverly’s knees. She buried her lips against the crown of Waverly’s head. “Wave, come on. Don’t be so hard on yourself. We can do this together.”

This only made Waverly cry harder. “That’s the problem,” she choked, pointing her muffled words downward to her lap. 

Wynonna rubbed her cheek against Waverly’s hair. “What do you mean?”

She didn’t understand. She wasn’t aware that this was precisely the thing that kept Waverly up at night. She didn’t  _ know _ that it wasn’t Waverly’s own inabilities that hurt the most. 

Waverly took a deep breath. It came out in a shudder as she prepared to share the darkest, most hurtful of truths. She swallowed. 

“Nicole… She’s so good with him. She…” 

She couldn’t say it.

Wynonna’s fingers stilled on Waverly’s hand. “What, she’s better than you?”

Waverly didn’t respond. 

Wynonna sat back on her heels. “Baby girl, Nicole is  _ not _ better than you.  _ You’re _ his mommy.”

“But she’s so perfect in every way,” Waverly protested. “She’s never tired and she does  _ everything _ around here.  _ And _ she’s got lectures, and work, too.”

“So? She’s not the one who pushed him out of her vee-jay. She’s not the one who’s feeding him  _ all the frickin’ time _ . I mean, seriously, how much food does a newborn need?”

Waverly didn’t laugh. “But that’s  _ all _ I do. And I’m tired all the time, and I’m complaining, and I need time for myself, and she  _ never  _ does. I’m just the baby formula,  _ she’s _ the parent. If it hadn’t been for her...” 

She shook her head, unable to finish. 

Wynonna sighed heavily and proceeded to talk in a very dignified tone. “Waverly Johanna Earp.” (That was not her name.) “Nicole Haught is a godsent creature from Mother Theresa herself, come to save humanity from evil. That is her task on this earth, and she will conquer it no matter what we do.” She rolled her eyes at her own words and leaned closer to Waverly. “That’s just who she  _ is _ , Wave. There’s nothing we can do to crease her pleated pants or rid her of that  _ grin _ of hers. I mean, I  _ try _ . But she’s simply a saint.”

She continued in a lower voice. “And also, she  _ is  _ tired. She’s practically comatose out there on the couch. And she’s kinda pissy, too.” She nodded matter-of-factly. “She told me off for not taking off my shoes in the hallway yesterday. She’s clearly lost her mind.”

Waverly eyed her. “ _ I _ tell you off for that  _ all the time _ .”

“Yeah, I know, but you’re my sister. You’re allowed.”

She cleared her throat. “But my point is, really.” She grabbed Waverly’s hand again and continued on a soft whisper, so that only Waverly could hear her. “Waves, you shouldn’t be ashamed that Haught is good. You should be happy. You and Charlie are  _ so  _ lucky, because she chose  _ you _ . That’s nothing to cry about.”

She gave Waverly’s hand a little shake, to emphasize her words. “You should be  _ happy _ ,” she repeated.

Waverly tried to process Wynonna’s wisdom, but her brain was hazy, making the task difficult. She blinked, letting her shoulders relax. Then she nodded. “It’s just hard,” she said in a broken voice.

“I know, baby girl.” Wynonna squeezed her hand again. “Maybe you should talk to her about it?”

Waverly snorted. “Right, that’s gonna be a fun conversation. Hey, Nicole, I’m having a hard time with you being so perfect for my son, maybe you can take it down a notch.”

Wynonna chuckled. “Also, you could tell her to stop looking so put together all the time, wearing clean clothes and all that. Maybe give off the impression that  _ she’s  _ got a newborn, too.”

Waverly reflected her smile, and the clenched fist inside her chest loosened a bit. She unclamped her hand from Wynonna’s and wiped her face with the back of her hand. “Thank you,” she whispered. 

“No problemo.” She swatted Waverly knee and used it to push herself up from the floor. “Maybe you just need to spend some time with her. And  _ talk _ . You know, with your mouths.” She pointed to her own.

Waverly nodded. Wynonna was right. Nicole was here as much as she could, spending time with Waverly and the baby. She came straight home from University, and made sure to prepare Waverly breakfast before she left for work on Saturdays. But they didn’t really talk, not about real stuff. Everything was always about Charlie, and breastfeeding, and diapers, and grocery lists. The romance had kinda subsided. 

Wynonna leaned back in her chair and reached for her coffee. “Oh, and I’m sorry for the prunes,” she said. 

Waverly smiled. “Just buy them tomorrow, okay?”

Wynonna winked. 

Waverly took a big gulp of her coffee, and then another, almost finishing the lukewarm drink. “I’m gonna check on him. He should be getting hungry right about now.”

Sure enough, when she entered the living room, Charlie’s eyes were open and he was smacking his lips. Nicole was still sleeping, seemingly unaware of the squirming baby on top of her. Waverly moved quietly over the floor and sat down on the floor in front of them. She put one hand on top of Nicole’s braided fingers holding the little boy in place. 

“Hey, Charlie,” she whispered. “Are you hungry? You wanna come to mommy?”

He chewed happily in response. A collection of spit bubbles appeared when he stuck out his tongue to his already wet lips. 

Waverly smiled. “Let’s get you out of mama’s hands.”

She leaned forward and kissed Nicole’s temple. “I’m gonna take the baby, okay?” she whispered. 

“Hm,” Nicole grunted, but her hands didn’t protest when Waverly lifted the boy away from her. 

She sat down in the armchair opposite Nicole, balancing Charlie on one arm while she drew up her shirt and loosened the flap on her bra to expose her breast. Charlie latched on immediately and started sucking with quick, vigorous draws. 

Waverly sighed happily. She felt like a world of worries and doubts had been lifted from her shoulders. Looking upon her son, with his little tuft of hair and his chubby fists, everything suddenly seemed to be alright. 

In truth, the feeling of needles hadn’t really been there since that first, strugglesome week. Now, it was only lovely. A special time for just the two of them. 

Waverly trailed her fingers over his cheek, and came to the same conclusion she had discovered a few weeks ago. This was her favorite thing in the world. 

She looked up when Nicole pushed herself up into a sitting position. One side of her face had red marks going criss-cross over her skin. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes with the palm of her hand. Waverly smiled at her, and Nicole automatically smiled back. She did look tired, Waverly realized.

“Did you have a good shower?” Nicole asked softly. There was no way she didn’t notice how red and puffy Waverly’s eyes were, but she didn’t comment on it. 

Waverly nodded. “I did,” she smiled. 

Wynonna came in carrying another cup of coffee. She jammed it down in front of Nicole and slung herself down on the couch next to her. 

“Thanks,” Nicole said gratefully, and drank from the cup. Her face immediately screwed up in disgust. “How old is this coffee?” she asked. 

Wynonna shrugged. “It got cold so I nuked it in the micro.”

“Ugh.” Nicole pushed the cup away from her on the coffee table. 

Wynonna ignored her. “So, what’s for dinner?” she asked instead. 

Nicole looked at Waverly and rolled her eyes. For some reason, it made Waverly immensely happy. 

“Nicole,” she started. Her lips were sporting an apprehensive smile. She threw a quick glance to her sister, who gave an encouraging nod, before continuing. “You wanna go for a walk tomorrow? We could take the path behind the playground. I think Charlie’s stroller can take it.”

There was an implication in her question that didn’t go unnoticed by any of them.

Nicole’s face melted into love and happiness. “I’d love that.”

**Author's Note:**

> BABY, WE'RE BACCK
> 
> Come find me on tumblr and twitter @zaxagra (I admit, I'm not very active - but I'll answer all questions and yellings about fic)!


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